


Coming Home

by Dallas



Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:10:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dallas/pseuds/Dallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst part about keeping their relationship a secret was when work commitments kept them apart for months. The best part about keeping their relationship a secret was not being interrupted when they were finally together again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Two strong arms slid around her waist and she jumped. Given that she was home alone her immediate response was to thrust her elbow back hard into the man's stomach. As he pulled back, letting go of her, she spun around and raised her fists only to widen her eyes as she realised who she'd hit.

"Sean!"

"Good to see you too, love," he grimaced, pressing his hand against his stomach to try and ease the pain.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping towards him, a look of concern clearly etched on her face. She'd elbowed him hard and clearly the move had the desired result. From the look on his face it was a stupid question. "What the fuck are you doing sneaking into my house?"

"You gave me a key," he pointed out, squaring his shoulders as he tried to stretch out the pain.

"Yes, but you're supposed to be in America," she argued.

"I wanted to surprise you, Chelle," he protested, motioning the bag he'd left sitting by the door. "I've got a whole week free, the kids are in school, and I haven't seen you in months. So I thought I'd fly into London and surprise Michelle"

"Fat lot of good that did you," she slapped his arm for good measure.

"Would you stop hitting me, woman? I was trying to be romantic," he scowled.

His expression made her laugh, putting him off guard. "You look like the children," she chuckled, closing the gap between them.

"Which children?" he asked, knowing full well who she meant but wanting to hear it anyway.

"Our children," she smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Not that I get to see them much anymore."

"You see them more than me," he pointed out as he relaxed and slid his arms around her waist. Safe in the knowledge she wasn't about to injure him again. He pulled her body flush against his and kissed her hungrily. They'd been apart too long. Why she'd been sent to Australia, of all places, to promote the DVD release, God only knew. But the fact of the matter was that she was home now, and so was he, and he wasn't about to waste a minute of his time with her.

She kissed him back with a fierce passion. The kind of kiss that betrayed the 'good Irish girl' image she often joked about. And, briefly, he followed her lead. But it was always briefly. He’d let her have her fun and she knew that. On occasion he’d up the ante and get aggressive with her, and she’d relish every second of it, but ultimately that wasn’t his way. Regretfully, she pulled back. “I missed you,” she breathed against his lips. Her accent was thick, her voice low. “Make love to me, Sean.”

He raised his hand to cup her cheek, letting him get lost in the twinkle of her perfect blue eyes. “How could I possibly refuse?” he smiled, soft and genuine.

This was where the words stopped. No words were allowed during sex, it was the only rule they had. (Except for the one where Michelle was not allowed to drink Guinness on any day other than St Patrick’s Day, and even then under strict supervision) Neither of them wanted to fall into a relationship where they could discuss the fact they needed milk and bread. That wasn’t what it was about. It was about simply being with one another, consuming and being consumed by this person who knew them better than they knew themselves.

She thought on that as he gently tugged the tie from her hair, letting the long dark strands fall down over her shoulders. There was no one in her past that knew her like Sean knew her. Even the most embarrassing things she had sworn she wouldn’t repeat had been coaxed out of her time and time again when she was alone with him. She licked her lips, smiling as she watched him studying her. He had to approach everything strategically, decide carefully what his next move was. Though it was very likely he just liked to slowly undress her. Not that she minded at all. His hands found the hem of her shirt and she lifted her arms, almost like a child, as he drew it up and over her head, throwing it over his shoulder without a second thought. She watched with interest as he grazed the backs of his fingers against the swell of her breast, slowly drawing his hand down to caress her firm stomach. She was loathe to break their one rule, but she found herself wondering what he was thinking to himself as he let his eyes roam her bare skin. There was a time she would have felt self-conscious, but he’d seen far more than what she was showing off in that moment.

“You want to say something,” he spoke up, brushing his fingers gently up her sides.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” she responded softly, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. “What’s going on behind that stony Stark expression?”

He chuckled at that. “I’ve done a lot of reading since I last saw you,” he told her as he dropped his hands down to unbutton her jeans.

“More of those ‘Ned lives’ stories?” she asked, her tone teasing. She truly had no ground for making fun as he’d read one to her last time they were together and she’d found herself getting upset that it wasn’t part of the show. But, then again, she didn’t actively go looking for these stories and he did.

“You liked the last one,” he pointed out with a smile, pushing her jeans off her hips. “But not just those... there are a lot about Catelyn. Short studies of her character and how she deals with the events of the series, or sometimes before the series takes place. I like them. I find them comforting when you’re not around.”

“Careful now, if word of this got out it would tarnish your stoic reputation,” her fingers slid downward, gracefully flicking open each button on his shirt. She raised an eyebrow, considering his words. “What made you think of them? You have me here, all to yourself, why start thinking about your stories?”

There was a very strong possibility he was about to walk into a trap. He knew it. But as her brushed up over his chest to push his shirt off he found he couldn’t help himself. “Every now and then someone writes a moment where Cat reflects on how her body has changed over the years,” he explained without much thought. “...Particularly since having children. And I was just admiring the firmness of your stomach.” His fingers drifted against her abdomen again as if emphasising his point.

“Is that so...” she breathed out, a smirk playing on her lips. “Are you saying if I bore you five children you'd no longer find me attractive?” her voice was calm, her expression unreadable, and he was doomed.

Carefully he pieced together his next sentence, choosing each word as though his life depended on it. “What man in his right mind would ever find you unattractive?” he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. “Cat worried Ned would no longer find her appealing, and I was simply thinking to myself... as long as you are the Catelyn to my Eddard, no other woman could possibly compare.”

“Except Jon Snow’s m...” before she could say any more he kissed her just as fiercely as she had him, effectively ending any mention of her fictional husband’s infidelity.

“No woman, Cat,” he told her gruffly.

There was a definite twinkle in her eyes as she looked at him, her breath heavy, and she nodded. She stepped back from him, reaching behind to unclasp her bra. “Then prove it, Ned,” she stepped out of her underwear, sitting down on the end of the bed and crawling backwards. “Show me I’m the only woman.”

He smirked, unbuckling his belt and kicking off his boots. “With pleasure, my Lady,” he growled as he kicked of his trousers, moving to join her on the bed. The heartache of being separated long forgotten.


End file.
